


Free In You

by HyperchaoticStarlight (MVPYurio)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Cuddling, Dorks in Love, Fluff, For a Friend, Guitars, Inspired by Music, Love Confessions, M/M, Music, Singing, Singing Lance (Voltron), Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, this shit is super fuckin gay y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 21:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13152798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MVPYurio/pseuds/HyperchaoticStarlight
Summary: Keith likes to listen to Lance at night when he practices guitar....





	Free In You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whichlights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichlights/gifts).



> This fic is dedicated to the lovely [Rose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichlights/pseuds/whichlights) ([witchlightsands](http://witchlightsands.tumblr.com) on tumblr), who was going through a literal Merry Crisis earlier. Rose, I love you with all my heart and soul, and I hope that you enjoy this fluffy gay nonsense.
> 
> I wrote this literally between the hours of 10:30 PM and 12:00 AM, so please be gracious.

Sometimes, when Lance felt insecure about how little he felt he could do in battle, he was able to remind himself of what he could do.

Sure, it wasn’t much use in a fight, but there was something to be said for music. In places of darkness and pain, Lance always found the light and hope and joy he needed in music, in the loving body and strings of a guitar and in his own vocal chords. It was by sheer luck that he managed to find a guitar that he could play, and keep it in his bedroom in the Castle, and by even better luck that his team didn’t seem to mind his singing.

And he did a _lot_ of singing. He sang in his bedroom and in the shower and while walking down the halls. Even while sitting on the couch, he was humming quietly or singing under his breath. Everyone could easily tell if Lance was in his room or not, just by listening, because if he was in there he was probably singing. If he wasn’t singing, there was probably a problem.

In general, everyone in the Castle liked the singing. Lance, unlike some people named Shiro, didn’t sound like a cat dying by electrocution when he sang, so really it wasn’t an issue.

Well, except for Keith.

He kept up the act and all—pretending it didn’t matter, who cares if Lance could sing, it was just singing—but in reality?

In reality?

Keith hadn’t grown up with a lot of music. Being pushed around from foster home to foster home left little time for little comforts. He had an old, crappy iPod for a little while, which he mainly used for “weird emo music,” as Lance surely would call it, but it broke down and he really just never started listening to music again.

And that, obviously, was the reason that almost every night, he would sit outside of Lance’s room, silently listening as Lance practiced his guitar and sang.

Obviously, it was because he was deprived as a child, and not because he thought Lance sounded like an angel, and he _definitely_ didn’t think that Lance _looked_ like an angel.

No. Obviously not.

And yet, there he was, sitting outside the door again, at ass o’clock at night, listening, and even though his legs were tired from sitting funny, he didn’t want to move, because this was as close as he could get to the door, and moving even slightly could set the whole thing off.

He had to stay perfectly still, and perfectly silent.

~~

“Damn it,” Lance muttered. “I could have sworn that it would have worked with G.”

Every now and again, Lance tried composing his own music. It was hard, much harder than playing covers, but at the same time it was in many ways more satisfying, because he got to choose exactly what kind of story he wanted to tell, got to choose exactly what emotions he wanted to evoke. In his original work, he could create his own tiny reality.

That is, if he could figure out what goddamn chord to use.

A noise from outside startled him from his work. He put his guitar down, confused, and poked his head outside.

“Shit!”

A whisper came from just outside Lance’s line of sight. He looked to his right and—

“Keith?”

“Uhhhh…”

“Were you just sitting outside of my door?”

“Maybe?”

“Why?”

“Because…”

Lance kicked the door open. “Come inside.”

“No! I mean—no, it’s fine. Go back to your practicing.”

“Practicing can wait, unless…” Lance blinked a few times. “You were outside my door to listen, weren’t you.”

“... maybe… You sound really nice.”

“Thanks,” said Lance. “Well, you don’t look comfortable out there. Come inside.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. But I’m gonna warn you, I’m gonna start talking about music and what I’m working on and go on and on about it.”

“That’s fine… are you… are you… uhhh…”

“Am I going to play again?” Lance asked, amusement lighting his eyes. “Well, I have always wanted to give someone a private concert.”

Keith turned pink. “Oh—okay.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

~~

Okay, yeah, okay, Keith couldn’t lie to himself anymore.

Lance was… shit.

Lance…

Keith watched and listened, trying not to look awestruck, as Lance sang little bits of whatever he was working on. He couldn’t help but stare at Lance’s fingers as they switched position over and over, wondering how Lance could remember where they went and move them in perfect time, and strum, and sing, all simultaneously.

“Sorry this isn’t the most polished performance,” Lance said sheepishly. “It’s… it’s not even a performance, really. You’re just watching a practice session.”

“It’s better than sitting outside of your door every night.”

“Every night?”

Well, _crap._

“Keith, you sit outside my door every night?”

Keith bit his lip, face becoming redder and redder as he nodded.

Lance was, quite frankly, floored. All this time, Keith was sitting outside of his door, listening, probably with the same soft, slightly sleepy expression that Keith had been giving him since Lance had opened the door.

“Why?” Lance asked.

Keith could feel sweat collect on his palms.

“Keith, why?”

“Because it’s really beautiful, and I just wanted to hear it—I never expected you to let me in and I felt embarrassed asking; it just sounds kinda awkward, like _Hey Lance, I really like you and you play really nicely and you sing like an angel and I wanna listen to it all day and can I sit in your room in the middle of the night and listen to you play?_ Like, that’s really… that’s really…”

It was then, and only then, that he realized exactly how much he had shared.

“You like me?” Lance’s breath caught in his chest as he asked. “Keith, you like me?”

Instinct took over. Fight or flight. Keith stood up, reaching for the door.

Lance’s eyes went wide, frantic. “Keith, wait!”

Keith froze.

“Please don’t go,” Lance said softly. Keith turned back to see that Lance’s eyes were pleading, shining softly.

“Lance—”

“Listen—listen. Listen. I… I don’t…”

Keith bit his lip again, trying not to cry, knowing what the next words were going to be.

“… it’s just hard to say in words, so… you want a private concert, yeah? Yeah. Um. There’s this song that I learned recently and it’s a lot better at explaining than I am… kind of… it’s not perfect but—”

 _A hard knock, a cold clock ticking off my time_  
_A long look but no luck, couldn't seem to find_  
_Or unwind into peace of mind_  
_Though I was trying_

 _A quick glance, a big chance, my heart beat like a drum_  
_I saw you and I knew chances just don't come_  
_Round again, not like this_  
_First a laugh, then the kiss_

 _And I'm free in you_  
_I've got no worries on my mind; I know what to do_  
_That's to treat you right and love you kind_  
_Thank you ever on my mind_  
_Love is just like breathing when it's true_  
_And I'm free in you_

 _The lost time, the self crime, my big mistakes_  
_The clear voice of bad choice sounding like an ache_  
_In my day, not too bad but too real_  
_To go away_

 _But now I'm free in you_  
_I've got no worries on my mind; I know what to do_  
_That's to treat you right and love you kind_  
_Thank you ever on my mind_  
_Love is just like breathing when it's true_  
_And I'm free in you_

 _And I don't know how you show_  
_Such gentle disregard_  
_For the ugly in me that I see_  
_That for so long I took so hard_

 _But I truly believe_  
_That you see the best in me_  
_I'm enough for your love_  
_And the thought sets me_

 _Free in you_  
_Got no worries on my mind; I know what to do_  
_That's to treat you right and love you kind_  
_Thank you ever on my mind_  
_Love is just like breathing when it's true_  
_And I'm free in you_

_Yes I'm free in you_

Now, Keith really was close to crying. “You… you…”

“I told you, it’s not perfect,” said Lance, putting his guitar away. “It’s not exactly—usually I pick a song where the lyrics go perfectly—like we haven’t kissed yet and I don’t even really know what you think of me because we don’t talk enough but the chorus is all true! I—”

“You’re rambling.”

“Yeah.”

“I do that too.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s kinda cute.”

Lance walked over and kissed Keith’s cheek. “You’re cute.”

“Yeah—I mean, thanks—I mean—”

He was cut off by Lance yawning very, very loudly. “Oh, I’m tired,” he said. “But it gets awful chilly in here… it really would be nice if, say, the cutest boy in the galaxy were to crawl in bed and stay with me aaalllll night…”

“Oh. Well, I’m not sure who that is, but maybe—”

“Didn’t the song make it obvious?” Lance laughed. “You’re the cutest boy in the galaxy, ya dingus.”

“I am not a dingus!”

“Yes you are.”

“I’m not!”

“But seriously, I really would love it if you stayed here. I uhhh… I like cuddles, and as much as I love getting them from Hunk… I’ve kinda… thought about cuddling you since… uh, a really long time ago.”

It was at that point that Keith completely lost it, and the tears started to pour down. “Keith? Shit, did I say something wrong?” Keith shook his head. “What’s wrong, then?”

“Happy tears,” Keith mumbled. “And confused tears and—I dunno.”

“Hey.” Lance sat down on his bed and opened his arms. “I’ve heard that snuggles are good for the soul.”

Keith sat down on the bed next to Lance, letting his head rest on Lance’s chest as Lance cuddled him close, humming softly.

“You really never stop, do you?” he asked shakily.

“My heart never stops singing for you,” Lance replied, his voice carrying both the weight and the brightness of ten thousand stars.

“I love you,” Keith said quietly, nuzzling closer.

Lance held Keith closer to him, kissing the top of Keith’s head. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> The song Lance sings is called "Free In You," and it is by Indigo Girls. I'm too lazy and tired to find a link, but I encourage you to do so yourself, as the original song is a duet between two women who are out and proud lesbians, and it's frankly the gayest shit your ears will ever be graced with.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @sing-a-rebel-song, or as Mod Keith @everything-quiznaks-so-much.


End file.
